The Few That Knew
by Many Oranges
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts comes to an end, but their world faces food shortages and financial issues that prevent the restoration of Hogwarts from taking place. The students will have to take it upon themselves to get jobs in order to help their beloved school, which means mingling with Muggles; this of course, is a recipe for ruins. Can they protect their precious, magical secret?


AUTHOR'S NOTE Everything you recognise from the books (or films, I guess) belongs to J K Rowling, I cannot take the credit for this awesome world she has created. Anything you don't recognise is mine, so yeah. I decided to take a break from The Generation Series, because I haven't been in the mood to write it, but I have some brilliant ideas for it, so fingers cross that turns out okay. I liked this idea though, so here goes. You'll notice it is literally after the Battle of Hogwarts: I'll try to keep most futures the same, but some I may have to change depending on the flow, or what I feel is necessary for the story. Also, it faces different points of view and maybe soon some sci-fi ideas (not 100% sure yet though...). T for possible violence and stuff I guess, nothing too bad though. Cheers and I hope you enjoy it!

P.S Folkestone is a real town, and it is lovely.  
:D Many Oranges

It was not difficult to understand. Voldemort was no less than dead, much to the happiness of every other witch or wizard who celebrated with whatever food or drink they could scavenge. Naturally, Harry Potter was congratulated all over for his victory, as well as his followers and helpers, most notably- Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley who found comfort in one another just after they first met and were bonded by the heart break and struggle of the war. Perhaps this was so, or at least how Witch Weekly would portray the newly famed couple. Minerva suggested a great buriel for the bodies of the brave which was a particularly liked idea through the grounds. What was left of it of course.

The Great Hall was in ruins: shattered glass shards circled Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan who were sipping mugs of water and chomping rather victoriously at their biscuits. Hagrid sat sadly by a pile of rocky debris, dominated by palpable dusty air choking anyone who hobbled by with their injuries. Speaking of which, there was a plentiful amount of blood spilt in small puddles all over the floor, and students, young and old, stared at it with utmost horror and disappointment. Grumpily, Filch brought in stacks of empty portaits, with the people clinging on inside making their way back to the painting they lived contently on before fleeing. Golden edges of the paintings were a little chipped, the beauty of them still there, just lessened by the destruction.

Luna was talking animatedly to her housemate Cho Chang, whose ruffled hair still failed to falter her prettiness. Her general posture was welcomming, despite the fact she was politely trying to let down Luna because she found Nargles and such uninteresting. However, Neville tried to show interest. They smiled warmly at one another as Luna initiated conversation, confidently. Twidling his thumbs nervously, he tried to ask her how she was, to which she answered with something so vague yet so clear, that he was stumped for something to say. Knowing of his shocked silence, Luna patted him gently on the shoulder and in seconds she and her dirt covered blond hair were skipping away gleefully to find a drink for the both of them.  
_123_  
Over in the farthest, emptiest area of the hall, slouched beside some torn lesther bound books, was Nathan Grain, a half-blood of the third year and resident of the Hufflepuff common room. He sighed sadly. He'd fought valiantly, and now he reflected on his Aunt Judy's painful death. Somehow, he felt guilt and somewhat shame to even whine or whimper about it. How dare he worry about himself and not think about the abundance of other magical bloodlines cut or weakened by their losses.

"Excuse me?" Nathan asked Madame Pomfrey, bowing his head incase hid following request was rather interuptive. She seemed occupied with a healing charm of some sort with what appeared to be a fifth year Ravenclaw's cheek bone. "May I borrow a bandage, or something? I have a gash on the lower part of my left knee..."

" Whatever makes you think I would not allow such?" she laughed heartily, and Nathan joined in as a signal that the joke was appriciated and understood. " Of course, boy. And you can keep it too," she handed him a small one knwoing full well the blonde haired boy, with hollow cheeks was grown up enough to medicate himself. He did so over in his now comfy corner, where he then proceded to read from an old Wandlore hand book.

_123_  
"Mr Shaklebolt, sir? Kingsley!" Harry boomed as he chased him down the stoney hall way, slipping about on ridgid rock pieces. He treated like a friend, as he had done so much to help him.

Stopping in his steps, his purple-blue silk ribes swung aroung to see unkempt black hair with a thin face, and glasses with infamous circular lenses he was greeted by Potter, who seemed incredibly anxious to talk to him.

"Yes?" "So you're the new Minister?" A grin was painted so obviously on his face, he was indeed happy with the selection of the new leader of the Wizard World.

"Yes, but no less a friend of yours, Harry, you brave boy. You will, no doubt have no trouble finding a place as an auror. As will your friend, Ron, and maybe even Longbottom should he desire to be," he waved his hand invitingly, with a glint of desperation in his eye. Harry knew the feeling- when he was getting Dumbledore's army together he wanted everyone to join with him for the greater good. "I hope that you will take this offer into consideration- the Ministry will need strong workers under my ruling for the sake of the saftey and security for our world: if we want to restore our dignity,"

If there was anything Harry felt right now, it was a sense of pride and achievement. As a career, being an Auror was something he had long desired to be. Then curiosity followed as he remember the discrimination against Muggle-borns. He knew some people ran into hiding. Many were totured, threatened, inprisoned. Were they currently safe, would damages to the British society of wizards be repaired. What about the current food shortages? A lot of attention was put on defences during the war instead of basic necessities, which meant nothing was made or prepared.

"I am delighted, sir,"

"Kingsley: call me that!" he chuckled, his deep voice climbing the remaining walls.

"...Kingsley..." he tested the name out, now he permitted allowed to used it casually. He felt calling him by his surnmae felt more professional considering his new Ministry status, but never mind. "What about everyone else? What happens next to families, villages, Diagon Alley, the Ministry?"

"Moneys is a gift, a gift we have a lot of stored for financial difficulties like the one we're about to face. As far as Hogwarts is concerned everyone can return home until further notice regarding reconstruction is declared. You might want to get yourself a job or something to get yourself a house, your kind of a man now, Harry. I suppose so, anyway. Contact me if you guys wish to take up my offer, or if you need any help, keep up the good work, Harry- you'll get far." With that, he apparated in into thin air, and Harry was alone in the corridor, just wondering how generations of wizards would get about learning magic if there was no Hogwarts.

_123_  
"Is everything alright, Ron?" cooed Mrs Weasley, embracing her son so tightly, he faced the potential collapsing of his lungs. Her battle with Bellatrix and loss of a son clearly pained her; the tear stained cheeks, swollen and beetroot red, were enough of an indication. However so, she wanted to be a good example to her son, and to show that everything would be okay. Hermione sheepishly smilied at her new boyfriend's close knit family. She hoped that she would be welcommed with open hands- well, that she'd be welcommed at all. Having obliviated her family, she would need a home and a family. Her thoughts were shortly interupted when Mrs Weasley hugged her, followed by George, Percy, Bill and Ginny all of whom were exhausted and their heavy breaths were unmistakable. Fleur even gripped her hand for a short-lived period of time; both of them were to be new editions to the family when the devastation of loosing Fred was over. The French lady, and bookworm, had found common grounds. "Everything is fine, Mum. George, what about you?" Ron asked, a little teary but strong nevertheless. Ginger haired George, now tall and sporting a single ear seemed somewhat silent for the most part. Perhaps the word 'wounded' was sufficed to describe his emotions. Fred was a part of him that he now felt had been torn apart and obliterated into non-existance. As if part of his brain now didn't function.

Dully, he replied. "Suppose you win some, you loose some." The rest of them stared. It was unusual for him to reply without something witty or laughable. "I'll miss him terribly, but I'll make make sure his legacy as the greatest prankster lives on, you can bet on it!" There is the answer they were looking for. Cheeriness filled his soul, well, the most humorous entertaining memories of his without-a-doubt favourite brother did.

Ginny giggled tunefully. "No one doubts it!"

"Even I don't." Percy held his hand out, but not in the way he used to, where he followed the handshake with a pompous remark. It was a handshake requesting that he be forgiven for being so posh and uptight. He had already requested it, but he needed this moment to display his appologies in front of the whole family. "I need to see this awesome joke shop I've been told loads about, eh? What do you say?"

Mr Weasley stepped up to put his arms over the shoulders, almost to congratulate the brother's for making up. "I think it's a great idea that you two make up. You need each other!"

"Alright, fine!" he shook Percy's sweaty palm in his ice cold one, and presented him with a grateful smile. "But if you go all Ministry crazy again... I'll have to take drastic measures. Maybe I'll take my other ear off just to minimize your voice!" The Weasley's roared with laughter for some time. Hermione with them too.

Harry came running round the corner, and Ginny launched herself into his arms so forcefully, that he was almost taken off of his feet. Mistletoe lingered above them, as it magically grew longer and more extensive. Ginny the object of his admiration, and vise versa, was safe by some miracle. But they could not complain as they kissed each other in the presence of the Weasley family cluster. Grudgingly, George refrained from commenting, and Ron, although he looked sickened by this display of affection, did his very best to smile. Mrs Weasley pecked Arthur on the cheek to celebrate Harry and Ginny's affection for one another. Should they be lucky, they might last forever! "I spoke to Kingsley earlier," he began, capturing the cluster's rapt attention. "He said I should get a job to pay for a house. Obviously, I have Grimmauld Place but that could do with doing-up. That's not what I need to tell you, though. Ron, he offered you and I, and Neville if he wants to, jobs as Aurors!"

"Harry, that's bloody brilliant!" Ron beamed. "When can we start?" Harry laughed and shrugged.

"To pay for a house of your own?" Hermione mused. He nodded in reply, to which she became very flustered. "How could I be so stupid! Of course, I'll get a job there too, campaigning for equal rights, and ensuring good health for creatures, and then I'll have somewhere to live!" she cried rather loudly, and characteristically. Realising she'd attracted a lot of attention from everyone, she shied away near Ron as she murmed, "What? I just like to plan ahead..."

"Hermione, dear, don't worry too much. We'll have room for you at our home, and you too Harry. Congratulations boys, but you must be careful when you're out and about. I'll have to knit you some cosier jumpers Ron, for when it's chilly out on missions!" Her hands rested on her hips as she winked at the rest of them. Ron was embarassed to the extreme. "Oh you, I'm just joking!"

_123_  
Deserted in the middle of an eerily dark forest, located somewhere in the southern parts of Britain was a fire spitting some embers at a group of Muggle-borns who were still huddling in hiding away from the world. Only recently, had their Wizards Wireless radio announced the end of the war. They knew so, as the death eaters who has taken over the station had been arrested live earlier on that day. While they were fending for themselves during the build up to the war, Charlotte Crimsonweed had introduced her family's favourite activity to her closest camping aqquaintants; Alice Ermand, Donald Harper and Samuel Trott. The last of the friends she made, Samuel, was a keen fisher after a short time, and in return for the favour of gathering food for them, her brought out his pocket harmonica and buzzed a tune that they could all feel slightly happier from.

Crunching hungrily at some 'edible' tree bark, Alice broke down in tears. "I do not think I can stand another minute being out here! Why can we not just return to Hogwarts?" The majority of the group were in years three to seven- if they attended the school. Alice fell into the second to youngest category, meaning she was often irresponsible with time, and supplies. She missed her mother who owned a local hair salon in Kent, where she lived before leaving. It could easily rival the stylings of the salon in Hogsmeade.

Mike, a shady seventh year stood up. "You cannot just return and expect everything be alright. Besides, we'd have to board a train their from London. We have no money, or means of getting there, or knowledge of how secure it is out in the world. Azkaban wil be pretty crowded soon," his brownish hair was wind-swept and he was one of the most adored at the camp. He had a dragon heartstring wand, which he had used to create the protective enchantments. This, and the occasional comments were the only way he showed that be cared for the other's. He didn't particularly enjoy being responsible for them. The oldest of them, Serena Lopez was always out and about, so he was left in charge.

"He is right, as expected," interjected Miller Barnes, lanky and tall. Many people disliked him for he would often gloat about his Quiddich success in the past. He had began to realise that none were interested and was trying to gain their trust through agreeing with Mike Van Teetherman, despite his reaction to his name. "Pius ensured we weren't liked and we still don't know whether we'll be excepted as people in the wizard world. For all we know, his influences and demands may still be in effect and we could be endangered."

Seemingly annoyed with everyone, Charlotte stood angrily, her face distorted, steam almost visible from her ears, and her hands clenched into fists so that little veins were popping out a bit. "We can't stay here forever though, can we? We ought to try and contact someone like McGonagall. Or plan something instead of pottering about trying to make a life out of tree bark and fishes! It's just a suggestion, but I say we go through with it," Murmurs of agreement filled the foggy forest, which was threatening to ruin the only source of heat they had, besides the clothes. They would use their wands, but as Sam pointed out, they have a trace on some of them, which could put them at risk.

They all sat in silence, presumably imagining life outside of this forest they had grown to enjoy, in a way. A particularly loveable feature in this forest, was that the trees were enchanting and towered over them defensively. Sometimes, Donald would claim they whispered to him in the wind: many took this as something to do with his vivid imagination, but he knew he was telling the truth. If one was adventurous enough (Serena was an example of this) you could go right to the edge of the inner forest and meet a small lake, inhabited by Muggle-world creatures that were like pets to them sometimes when they came to the camp to see them. The birds were Mike's favourite, as his father is a bird study specialist. In comparison, the wizard world offered a wide-range of exotic and awe striking creatures that never failed to impress, and Hogsmeade was so refreshing in the Winter that it felt surreal and made them think twice about how lucky they were to be magical. Was it a dream? Luckily, no, it was reality. Mike was undecided and was mature enough to not care either way, he could stay there forever. Charlotte, with her closest pal Sam, was determined to have their future in the safe hands of Hogwarts, without being harmed by the 'Mudblood Descrimination' as it had once been called on the radio. Just how safe would it be to leave, and how would it be done?

_123_  
One of her heels were broken, and as the new, possible, headmistress of Hogwarts, she changed the password of Dumbledore's office to 'victory' and entered. Her bones agonisingly ached, and her face was covered in colourful battle scars and blemishes. Strands of her greying hair flopped lazily over her face. She was Minerva McGonagall, which meant she had Hogwarts on her shoulders. You would think she would be thrilled with this fact: she had deputied for quite a while, and wanted the best for her beloved students. She was fairly wise and wanted to ensure that children everywhere, with magic of course, were given the education required for the finest future.

She was not amazingly happy though.

Now she was filled with sickening worry, because she wouldn't be a headmistress if the school recieved zero finances to pay for the damage. The corridors needed fixing so that they could enchant students year after year, and play the homes to the portatraits who had recently found the courage to come out of hiding. The ghosts would be frightened to find their towers messy and the Great Hall so shamefully ruined. Without it, feasts will be no more. Oh, what about those would-be first years? They may never see Hogwarts. So much pressure was getting to her, and her usual calm appearance wore off for a second. Her breathing become heavier. Her eyes welled up, and her tummy twisted as though it were being stabbed, and the person doing so was twisting the weapon around her organs And she felt her heart pulsating in her head; was this normal?

"Something the matter, Professor?" She jumped wildly as she turned. Not a person was in sight.

Impatiently, she tapped her foot in the headmasters office, and using the time she spent waiting for the owner of the voice to appear, she glanced at everything in the room that would be hers. Some of what was Dumbledore's had changed, which was probobly Snape's doing. Every book, miles up near the cieling, and lower than her knees, would be her property soon.

"Professor, why not check the portraits for me?" Vaguely, the soft, wise tone reminded her of Dumbledore, and she suspected the cheeky chortle that sounded after this suggestion to be his too. Correct, she was.

She gleamed, and bowed respectfuly before him. "You have no idea how much I have missed you; WE have missed you!" His portrait was at face level with her, and in the moment she completely forgot that she was aching so terribly. It was spectacular seeing his half-moon glasses balanced on his petite, pointed nose, and his extensive beard brushed formally and tied. His white hair, was smooth and resembled a snow-blanketed hill with the occasional crystle sparkle amongst the ice.

"The feeling is mutual, Minerva. Again, I ask you, whatever the matter is, I will help in any way favourable,"

"It is the future of Hogwarts that is causing me this worry. Imagine what the founders would think of their stunning, historical creation having been smashed and blown to smitherines! I cetainly would not be impressed. What if it cannot be restored? All of their hard work, and that of the students and other staff would be in vain... and... I guess I just...What happens next if..." she croaked, a swelling in her throat preventing any more words from coming out.  
"I highly doubt the founders would be saddened by the amount of work put in to man the boundaries and protect their creation. But what is done, is done," he paused to scratch his irritated head, and he shuffled himself into a new position. "I put my trust in certain people..."

Uncertain where this would lead, she nodded slowly and ensured he had her full attention. "Yes?"

Smiling knowingly of something which I did not yet comprehend, he continued. "The Ministry's new leadership shall be a good one, hopefully. Remember what I said, Minerva, and do not worry, for you have been an honourable deputy, and will soon make a great leader yourself. I hearby give you, Headmistress McGonagall, my full blessing. Now, I will have a short slumber, if you'll excuse me..."

She thanked him, and scurried out leaving him to serenity of old office to sleep. Likewise, she put her trust in very few people, one of them was him, so she had little doubt anything he'd said would be wrong. Despite such, she would remain wary and do her best to be a good example to the students in that tough time, as well as encourage those like Hermione, and those not, to have the best future possible. She knew about the new Ministry, perhaps this was a sign of better finance? And that she would do something for the students: because Hogwarts was apparently going to have a headmistress.

_123_  
Meanwhile, in a fairly smallish coastal town in England, named Folkestone, were a Muggle father and daughter travelling in a MG car. It was a sparkling blue, and attracted a generous amount of attention around the town. The girl was in her early/ mid teen years and seemed very fond of her father. Her astoundingly chocolate brown eyes were both mysterious and playful at the same time.

"... if magic does exist, you would tell me wouldn't you?" She pressed on. Eagerly, she faced him, fully aware that he would say it didn't exist. However, she ogled at the idea of such a complex idea existing, and the possibilites of meeting someone magical. She would want to understand it- does it threaten to render physics dumb, and unknowing?

He snorted. "Obviously, but I am almost certain it doesn't. Not with potions and spells and such anyway. If there is, then I would tell you!" She wondered whether magical world's preferred their existance secret, and that out of the goodness of her heart if she ever met someone magical she'd do her very best to keep them safe. As well as 'envy their awesomeness' as she put it in her notepad. Being a eager learner like herself, she was persistant and wanted to achieve so many things: getting a degree in Science was one of them, but as a hobby she would love to go in search of real magic. Considering her luck, something may even come to her. "Where we going again, Caitlyn?"

"Swimming centre; I'm meeting friends there. We're going to a cafe later too, and I'm going to that spiritual shop thing to have a look around for magical stuff. I'll call you when I need picking up though!" Her voice disappeared the further away she got as she scribbled nonsense onto her notepad. Her father tutted, and drove off to visit his own parents while she saw her friends. Cafe's are a bit posh for someone like her; I wonder who'd be interested about spending the afternoon in a cafe? Caitlyn was an active, loveable girl, so the idea seemed very obscure.

! END OF CHAPTER NOTE !  
Well, who will visit them cafes, eh? Ha ha, seriously, please review and let me know what you think of the story so far. Not sure if the characters are portrayed well, but I am doing my best. The OC's should begin to be more in depth soon though, I hope. I have some exciting things planned for the characters, as well as introducing more of them...he he he.

Thanks loads, merci beacoup, danke schon, grazie mille, and muchas gracias :P


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